In Its Place
by Rochelle Templer
Summary: Set at the beginning of Season 6B. After years of working for the Celestial Intervention Agency, the Doctor is given a chance to regain one of his former companions. Elsewhere in time, Jamie is running for his life while struggling to understand the gap in his memories and many unanswered questions. Each of them will be faced with a choice that will change everything.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: New fic. This came to me while I was working on an upcoming chapter of Dubhar and is yet another introduction into the wonderful "lost" season of 6B. :) It'll be a relatively short one (only about 4 chapters...and some of them probably shorter than this one) and I hope to wrap it up quickly while working on my other two open fics and my birthday tribute to Colin Baker that I hope to upload later this week.

In the meantime, I hope my readers will enjoy my take on the beginning of 6B: where the Doctor and Jamie face the choice that started it all. :)

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who reads/follows/favorites/reviews this. It is always appreciated.

Chapter One 

Standing in front of the window and watching the sun rise into the scarlet sky, the Doctor noted that the morning seemed to be no different from any other one he had experienced in recent years. Still, a part of him couldn't help but marvel at the sight. Years ago, he had thought that he would never experience dawn on Gallifrey again. He couldn't deny that something pulled at his hearts while he took in the natural beauty of his world. As he touched the glass, he allowed himself a moment to give in to the simple joy of knowing that he was home, even if it was as a prisoner and a practically a slave to the Celestial Intervention Agency.

Soon, the moment passed, and the Doctor turned to glare at his surroundings. He had just finished another assignment and was waiting to see what Sardon, his supervisor at the CIA, would have for him next. He did not expect to hear from him for a long while and was faced with trying to find some way to fill the tedious hours ahead of him. The Doctor yearned to do something invigorating like climb Mount Lung again, but knew that he would have to settle for a far more mundane activity given how he was trapped in his quarters.

He was down to trying to decide between another few hundred rounds of solitaire and building a replica of the Tower of London out of food cubes when a message from Sardon appeared on the computer console.

"_Doctor, it is time that we had another discussion regarding the terms of your service."_

It was brief, curt and completely devoid of any useful information. In other words, very much like Sardon, in the Doctor's estimation.

The Doctor sighed and pulled his braces up over his shoulders. Ever since he had started working for the CIA, Sardon had gone out of his way to remind the Doctor that, as a convicted criminal, he had very few rights in regards to what happened to him. It was only their "generosity" that enabled him to delay the punishment that was still waiting for him: forced regeneration and exile on Earth.

He pinned a faded blue bowtie to his collar and stuffed his arms into his beloved frock coat. Perhaps today was the day that they were going to tell him that his service was at an end. Perhaps it was time for him face his inevitable fate of being turned into a tall, bright-haired dandy who had an excessive fondness for velvet jackets and frills. He tried to work up a respectable amount of annoyance at this eventuality, but quickly gave up.

After all, there was no point in being annoyed over something that he almost wished would happen.

The Doctor lifted tired eyes up to a mirror and instantly regretted it. His once jet-black hair was threaded with silver. Some of the lines on his face had deepened and new ones had appeared. It had only been about fifty years since he had begun his missions for the CIA, but those years had taken their toll. Most of the assignments had been complex, grueling and, some might even say, suicidal in nature. Despite all of that, the Doctor had managed to successfully complete them all. Much to some parties' great consternation, he was sure.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times in an effort to clear away some of the bleariness. The work itself was bad enough, but then there was the fact that there had been some morally questionable aspects to a few of these missions, aspects that he would normally refuse to get involved him. However, those qualms were only important to him and got in the way of his ability to smile and gracefully accept each mission while revealing absolutely no hint of his true feelings about the situation. Feelings could be exploited, and the Doctor did not want to give his supervisors even the smallest scrap of additional leverage. Over time, it had gotten easier to put those thoughts at the back of his mind. Not that they went away completely. The Doctor doubted that that could ever happen.

Still, the Doctor was all too aware of the fact that this work and his assessment of it could not compare to the loneliness he felt. At least the missions gave him an opportunity to encounter other people, even if only for the briefest of moments and in a completely impersonal way. It was during those times when he traveled alone in the TARDIS or was forced to stay locked up in his living quarters that he was engulfed by a grey melancholy. The need for companionship gnawed at him every day, his only respite being a few brief visits to Victoria that he managed to squeeze in between missions.

The Doctor shook his head and walked away from the mirror. No matter how dark his moods became, he never lost sight of what motivated him to persevere. He would not give in, if not for his own sake then for the sake of the people who had understood him and had still loved him just the same.

The Doctor stepped over to the doors of his room and they parted, allowing him to wander into a lengthy hallway. After a few minutes of brisk walking, he arrived at the offices of the CIA and stepped into one of the side corridors that led to his usual meeting room. Sardon was already there waiting for him along with several other Time Lords, one of which the Doctor recognized as Goth, one of his staunchest opponents within the High Council.

"Doctor, you are late," Sardon said blandly. "Again."

"Am I?" the Doctor said, his eyes wide and innocent. "Strange, I don't remember an exact time being mentioned in your communication."

"All meetings are to occur at the usual, specified time and place unless otherwise noted," Sardon replied. "It's part of the standard procedure and is well known to you, Doctor."

"Ah, but that only applies to mission briefings and disciplinary hearings," the Doctor replied with a grin. "Not to meetings unrelated to specific assignments. As you said, Sardon, I am well versed with the articles of procedure."

"Yes," Sardon said tightly. "Just as I thought."

"Can we get on with this?" Goth asked. "There are plenty of more important matters that warrant more attention than this."

"Those affairs have not been forgotten, as I am sure you are aware, Goth," Sardon said. "They will be taken care of in due time. But first we must attend to matters within our own agency."

Goth huffed and tapped his fingers against the polished surface of the table they were all sitting at. The Doctor smiled inwardly at how easy it always was to read Goth. Whatever this meeting was about, it was clear that Goth did not agree with it at all. And that alone made it fascinating to the Doctor.

"Doctor," Sardon began. "While your methods have been a bit…unorthodox at times…."

"More like irresponsible and uncalled for," Goth interjected.

"Your mission record has been quite satisfactory," Sardon continued, unaffected.

"Thank you," the Doctor sniffed. "Glad to know that I'm living up to expectations."

That prompted more than one titter from those in attendence, but the Doctor didn't mind. It was worth it to see Sardon struggle to regain control of the proceedings.

"However, some valid concerns have arisen," Sardon said, his tone encouraging the others toward silence. "As Goth has mentioned, there has been a certain reckless in your conduct of late which is not helpful in ensuring your safety."

"And naturally, you always have my safety in mind when you give me these assignments," the Doctor snorted.

"Nor is it beneficial for mission success," Sardon added.

"Now, that is more like you," the Doctor said, his smile returning. "So is that why you arranged this meeting? For a performance review? 'Make sure to behave or we'll punish you'? Oh wait, you're going to do that at some point anyway."

"The sentence that was decided upon by the High Council cannot be revoked, as you well know," Sardon said. "But that time has not come yet. Instead, we have decided to follow through with another idea that you yourself have requested more than once."

Sardon paused, his eyes flicking for just a second toward Goth, who was glaring at the Doctor. The Doctor smiled again as he realized that the fact that the CIA was going with any of his ideas had to be a large part of what was bothering Goth.

"We have decided to allow you to travel with a companion again," Sardon said. "The human boy, McCrimmon. He will have his memories restored to him and you will retrieve him from the point in time where we sent him after your trial."

Both of the Doctor's hearts leapt in his chest and it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep his expression neutral. One of the hardest things he had ever done was watch helplessly as Jamie and Zoe stepped into those transports and had their memories of him almost completely erased while being sent back to where he had found them. He had thought that he would never see them again and that thought was a lead weight inside him that did not grow lighter with the passage of time.

Jamie's departure in particular had worried him. While he hated to think about Zoe being robbed of all that she had gained from her travels with him and missed her terribly, the fact remained that Jamie had far more to lose in going back to his time. Not only did he lose all the knowledge and personal growth that he had amassed, but was also at risk for losing his life. The Time Lords had put Jamie back in Culloden, back into the aftermath of a bloody massacre that showed little mercy to the Highlanders. Despite the confidence the Doctor had in Jamie's resourcefulness, he had feared for the piper's wellbeing every moment over these last fifty years.

"However, you should not consider this an uninfringeable situation," Sardon cautioned. "Your missions will still be assessed by the same standards we have always used. And if your performance should falter...we will have to consider other alternatives."

"And Jamie?" the Doctor said, his voice low. "What will his status in all this be?"

"He will be under our purview just as you are," Sardon answered. "And thus, he will be subject to the same authority and the same rules as you."

"And when this is over, what then?" the Doctor asked. "Will he be allowed to keep his memories? What of his return to Earth? You can't send him back to the same place again. It isn't safe for him there."

"The boy's fate will reside in your hands, Doctor," Sardon said. "Of course, the human's conduct will be considered. But ultimately, your actions during the remainder of your service will be the crucial factor in deciding how much latitude will be given to finding a resolution for him. I suppose it's up to you to decide if this is a gift or another punishment."

The Doctor nodded grimly. He suspected that it was considered both a gift and a punishment by many in this room. There was no other way that this proposal would have been allowed to go forward.

"Once you have retrieved him, you are to return to Gallifrey and await further instructions," Sardon said. "And Doctor, do not forget that your actions regarding the human will be monitored. If he chooses to accept your offer to travel with you again, he will have to report to us the same way you do. But if he chooses to reject your offer and remain on Earth, he must not be allowed to retain his memories and you are not to interfere in his time line ever again."

"I thought as much," the Doctor replied. "Very well, I should get going then, shouldn't I?"

One of the other Time Lords grunted in assent and most of them got up and filed out of the room with the exception of Sardon and Goth, both of whom continued to watch the Doctor.

"Sardon, I wish it to be known that I still strongly object to this course of action," Goth said, jumping to his feet.

"Your objections have been noted," Sardon replied with a wave of his hand.

"Have they?" Goth spat, his eyes firmly fixed on the Doctor. "He is a convicted criminal. A dangerous meddler who thinks nothing of breaking our laws on a regular basis. Why should we reward him by appeasing his whims?"

The Doctor said nothing. He knew that there was nothing he could say or do to change Goth's mind about him. He would be an implacable enemy to the end. The Doctor had resigned himself to this and had long since decided to focus on defense and maneuver in his dealings with Goth.

"The work we do is far too important to approach lackadaisically," Sardon responded. "The Doctor has done a satisfactory job thus far and if we have the means to maximize his effectiveness we should use them. Otherwise, what is the point of having him as our agent at all?"

"Sardon, I don't think I'll ever tire of your acting as if I'm not here when you talk about me," the Doctor said with a smirk.

"Think nothing of it, Doctor," Sardon replied with a smile of his own. "I often find myself disregarding your presence anyway."

"You said yourself that he was reckless," Goth interjected. "Are you saying that we should reward his irresponsible behavior by letting him drag this human into such a dangerous existence?"

The Doctor glared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. Goth stepped closer to him.

"You accuse us of being indifferent to the lives of innocents and demand that we make arrangements for this human's safety," the Time Lord continued. "And yet, you are the one who wants to throw this human into situations that are far beyond his comprehension or his ability to survive them without your help."

Goth's lips twisted into a sneer, and he dared to look straight into vivid blue eyes that were currently ablaze with unfathomable emotion.

"Tell me Doctor, is this your idea of altruism?" he snapped. "To collect these primitive beings, make them dependent on you and then use them to fulfill your own ends? Perhaps others should take it upon themselves to find some way to guarantee that this human's best interests are considered."

"Goth, whatever you might think of this decision, it is final," Sardon said. "As I said before, your objections have been noted. Rest assured that they will be considered if need be in the future. But for now, I believe it is time to attend to those other matters that you were so urgently referring to."

Goth glanced back at Sardon and nodded reluctantly. He turned his gaze back toward the Doctor and flinched when he saw the look in the Doctor's eyes. It wasn't a look of mere anger. It was far more dangerous than that.

"Goth," the Doctor said in a disturbingly quiet voice. "I'm certain that no one would dream of undermining the decision that was made here today. Therefore, I'm sure that there's no need for me to mention that any…interventions taken in regards to Jamie might result in all sorts of unfortunate consequences."

"And yet you just mentioned it anyway," Goth spluttered.

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" the Doctor said with another grin. "How silly of me to be so redundant. I wonder why I felt the need to do that."

Goth glowered at him again, but also took a step back. In that moment, the Doctor was assured that his message to leave Jamie alone had been received and understood. He gave Sardon and Goth one last jaunty little wave and dashed out of the room toward the docking bay where his TARDIS was stored during his stays on Gallifrey.

With the twist of a key and a slamming of the main doors, the Doctor was off. He immediately scowled when he noticed on one of the console monitors that the Time Lords were feeding information into the TARDIS' databank. He brought up what they had sent him on the monitor and found out that they had sent him the coordinates for the moment when they dropped Jamie off in the Highlands.

"Now then, off we go," he said to himself, clapping his hands.

The TARDIS dematerialized into the Vortex while the Doctor continued to smile and pull out his recorder from one of his pockets. He had just put it to his lips when the TARDIS shook violently, propelling the instrument out of his hands. His mouth fell open and he rushed over to the console.

"Oh, oh no," he muttered. "It almost looks like some kind of time eddy. Trying to draw us in. It looks small, but we can't be too careful. Let's just see what we can do here…."

The Doctor's fingers flew over the switches and buttons. He was confident that the TARDIS could pull itself away, but still felt some lingering concerns over how the eddy's interference could have affected his trajectory.

"Oh crumbs," he grumbled. "Well, it's not perfect, but it seems to be close to our original heading. Yes, very close indeed. We shouldn't be more than, oh say, a couple hours later than we had planned."

The Doctor suddenly looked up, his hands fiddling about nervously. It just occurred to him that he had been carrying on a conversation as if there was someone else there to listen to him. This wasn't the first time that it had happened. But that did not lessen the lonesomeness he always felt afterward in the slightest.

He slowly sat down onto a nearby chair and leaned forward, his head drooping down into his hands. It wasn't until now that he realized how desperately he needed his solitude to end. He wanted to be happy and relieved that he was on his way to see Jamie again, but something in the back of his mind warned him that it might not be so simple.

'_It's too much to ask Jamie to make this sort of choice right after giving him back his memories,' _he mused. '_Of course he'd want to hold onto his memories once he got them back, but letting him keep them means he'd be forced to come with me….and then he'll belong to them, to the CIA.' _

_But how can I make him fully understand his options before I give them back when he has no knowledge of the universe or of space-time travel anymore?' _

'_And how can I ask him to make such a momentous decision based solely on the words of someone who is now little more than an acquaintance to him?'_

The Doctor lifted his head and clenched his hands against his knees. He imagined that Sardon knew that he would have to grapple with questions like this and that Goth probably relished the idea of him facing this dilemma.

Worst of all though was the reality that he would have to decide if he had the right to choose what was best for Jamie. Goth's words about the piper being primitive and dependent soon came back to him unbidden, angering him further.

'_No… No! Jamie is an intelligent being who is more than capable of making up his own mind. I can't tell him what he should do. It has to be his choice entirely. No one has the right to decide his fate for him.'_

'_Not even me.'_

The Doctor ground his jaw and returned to the console. He was determined to find a way to give Jamie a true choice and ensure his safety. If that meant regaining him as a companion, it would be wonderful. And if that meant finding a place to leave him behind on Earth forever….then he would learn to accept it

No matter what it would cost him.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Next chapter. This one is turning out to be a little longer than I thought it would be, but I'm almost done writing it, so I hope to have it all posted by the end of this week or very early next. In fact, I expect that there will be more than one fic updated this week. Stay tuned. :)

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

Chapter Two

Somewhere in the vast expanse of Culloden Moor, Jamie McCrimmon had also watched the morning sun rise. The pale beams of light were too weak to dispel the grey that dominated the sky. Eventually, the piper managed to fully awaken and was now reflecting on the day ahead of him.

However, instead of contemplating how similar this morning was to so many others, Jamie was wondering how everything had become so different.

* * *

Three days ago, he had been dreaming about a place far away from Scotland. It was a place where people stood in long black-and-white robes and spoke with flat, detached voices. These people looked at him with eyes that could not recognize him as a man with his own mind and destiny. Bemusement and pity: those were the only things that registered in those eyes.

There had been other people there too. A lassie with dark hair, a pixyish face and eyes that were constantly analyzing and memorizing everything around here. She was such a wee girl full of strange ideas and words, but Jamie felt oddly protective of her. She had the quality of a younger sibling who he needed to mind, but somehow, he suspected that she viewed him in the exact same way.

Then there was another man there, a man so unlike anyone he had ever met. A man with warm eyes that held the spark of a child and the wisdom of the ages. Jamie could not fully understand it, but he was drawn to this man. There was the protectiveness and the feeling of familial bonds that was much like what he had felt for the lassie, but this went beyond that. Instinctively, Jamie knew that he belonged at this man's side, just as sure as the sun belonged in the sky.

Suddenly, a white fog enveloped him and all of it was gone. There was only a sort of blankness, silent and void of anything tangible.

When he opened his eyes, Jamie found himself squinting at the sun high overhead. He scrambled to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. It didn't take long for him to recognize it as Culloden Moor.

'_Wait…how….how did I get here? I, I was somewhere else. Them, those people….'_

Jamie clutched at his clothes. Something was wrong. Something about him was…different than it was moments ago. These clothes, his body, his being here on Culloden Moor: none of it felt right.

A series of faint clicks nearby caused the piper's battle instincts to kick in. He whirled around and dropped to his knees just in time to avoid being shot by an English soldier who had had the gall to sneak up behind him. Memories of his recent battles and the sight of this Redcoat were enough to make his blood burn.

"Try to murder a McCrimmon would ye? Well I'll show ye! Craeg au tuire!"

The piper unsheathed his claymore and rushed the soldier, his blade swinging in the air. The ferocity of his attack was enough to make the soldier turn and scamper away. Jamie chased him for almost half a mile before the Redcoat was finally willing to stand his ground and fight. It was a fast-paced, brutal conflict that reached its climax with a battered Jamie standing over the soldier, his claymore pointed at the man's chest.

"Well, aren't you going to kill me?" the soldier shouted at him. "What's stopping you?"

Jamie gripped the handle of his sword even tighter. Ironically, he was asking himself the very same question. After all, this Redcoat had already tried to kill him. He and others like him had executed his family, his friends, and just about everyone he knew. This wasn't even the first time the piper had been forced to kill someone.

So why was he hesitating? Why was the fact that this Redcoat was lying on the ground, unable to harm him anymore, causing him to hold back? There was no definite reason behind it. Instead, it was as if there was something inside him, a voice, a presence, encouraging him to exercise mercy and to avoid killing solely because he could.

More gunshots rang out, and Jamie glanced up to figure out their origin. The soldier immediately decided to see this as an opportunity and had kicked at Jamie's knee, causing the Highlander to lower his weapon. The Redcoat made a desperate grab for his gun, but just as his hand touched the handle, Jamie managed to recover and drove his claymore into his chest, killing him within seconds. Once it was done, the Scot re-sheathed his sword and stared down at the corpse on the ground. He told himself that he had no choice and that he should be glad to still be alive.

Nevertheless, Jamie knew that he'd be lying to himself if actually thought he could believe those words.

"Look there! More of that Jacobite filth."

"Kill him! Don't let him get away!"

Jamie turned to see a group of about three or four soldiers coming up over the hill. He fled toward a forest that was only a few yards away.

Thus began the running that would characterize the next few days to come.

* * *

Jamie yawned and crawled out of the heather thicket he had spent the night in. He had lost track of how many times he had darted from and dodged the English soldiers. The cycles of night and day were simply the backdrop to a series of chases and escapes. It was only during those intervals when Jamie had eluded the soldiers pursuing him that he was able to think of anything else.

Unfortunately, these were also the times when the thoughts and questions that were troubling him were able to make their presence known.

* * *

It had started with perhaps one of the most basic tasks in any person's routine: taking a drink of water.

After Jamie had lost the first pack of Redcoats that had found him on the moor, he had hid in the underbrush for almost an hour to make sure they were gone. Positive that he was alone, the piper emerged from his hiding place. He spotted a small pond on the edge of the forest and strolled over to it. Kneeling down at the edge, he cupped his hands and scooped out several swallows of water. His thirst quenched, Jamie splashed the last bit of water onto his face and looked down at his reflection.

However, the image he saw was not what he had expected.

Jamie leaned closer and gasped. He ran his hands over his features several times, but still could not understand what he was seeing. It was definitely his face that he saw in the water, but at the same time, it wasn't. He stared, open-mouthed, at the reflection for several minutes until he finally figured out what had confused him so much.

The face he was looking at was older than the one he remembered having. That face had been of a person who had emerged from boyhood not too long ago. But the face that he was looking at now was the face of a man well into his twenties.

Disturbed and more than a little suspicious, Jamie examined himself more thoroughly. He found scars on his body that hadn't been there before. His tongue found wisdom teeth that had sprouted in the back of his mouth. His limbs and torso had become brawnier.

'_But how can this be?' _he asked himself. '_How could I have changed so much in jes hours? 'Tis nae possible.'_

'_Unless…unless it has nae been jes hours. Mebbe 'tis been months or even years.'_

'_But if that's true, why cannae I remember?'_

Suddenly, his temples began to throb, and Jamie clutched at the sides of his head. He remained hunched over in misery for a few moments before the pain finally subsided.

'_What, what's wrong with me? My head. Why did it hurt like that?'_

The piper took a few deep breaths and slumped down into a sitting position on the grass. He reasoned that he must have caught some kind of fever that was affecting his mind. It was making him see things that weren't real along with the aches and the memory loss. He had almost convinced himself of this when he happened to glance down at his feet and was confronted with another puzzle.

'_Wait a minute…those shoes…. Those aren't my shoes. I've ne'er seen the like of them before in my life.'_

Jamie bent his leg closer to him and studied the footwear more closely. The material, the craftsmanship, the style: all of it was unlike anything he had ever encountered. Even the socks were not the usual kind a Highlander wore. The secure fit indicated that they were his and when Jamie took one off and inspected the inside of it, he noted that there were signs of wear which proved that they had been his for a while. And yet, he had no memory of where and when he could have acquired them.

Jamie rubbed his head. Question after question kept cropping up, and the piper could not find an answer to any of them. The only explanation he was able to come with that could account for everything was the one that was the most peculiar of all: that he had lived another life in a place and time unknown to him now. One that had lasted for years and that, for some reason, he could not remember.

The piper looked back down at the water again and peered at his reflection. He recalled stories his father had told him about people who had ended up in the realm of the faeries and had lived among them. When he first heard them as a bairn, he hadn't been entirely sure if they were just stories or not. Now, he wondered if perhaps he had joined the ranks of people who had accidently ventured into that mystical land for a time. It certainly made sense out of the things that were bothering him.

However, the one thing it did not do is explain why he felt as if he had lost something even more important than years of his life and his memories, something he had desperately wanted to hold onto, but was stolen from him just the same.

Something that had left behind a hole inside him that could not be filled by anything in this world.

* * *

Back in the present, Jamie felt his stomach rumble, but did his best to ignore it. All the running he had done over these last few days had given him few opportunities to forge for food. Once in a while, the hunger became intolerable and made him feel faint, but it never compared to headaches he sometimes had or to the confusion and worries that continued to swirl about inside him.

It certainly did not compare to how he felt the day before when he stumbled onto what had been one of the major battlegrounds of the rebellion.

The piper swallowed hard and covered his face. A part of him had thought that perhaps years had gone by in this world as well and that his fellow Highlanders were still fighting the English to restore the Stuart line to the throne. That theory was swiftly disproved when he saw the faces of his friends and fellow clansmen among the dead who were scattered all over the field. Even though he guessed that it had only been a short while since the battle had happened, to Jamie, it was as if he was being made to relive it all in a sort of macabre circle of time.

'_Why?' _he thought bitterly. '_If I have been to another place and time, why did I have to come back here? Is this some kind of punishment? Is that why I have to go through all this bloodshed and death again?'_

Jamie scrubbed his eyes before letting his hands fall into his lap. Last night, he had managed to find a place to hide that the soldiers were not bothering to search. He tried to use this opportunity to get some restorative sleep, but had ended up spending a large portion of that time crying for the family and friends he had lost.

Still, Jamie had surprised himself by not mourning as long or as hard as he thought he would. True, the pain of those losses was still potent, but had also seemed to have changed with age, much like his body had. Instead of the searing agony that can flood the heart right after such a loss, it was a muted, wistful sadness that inevitably develops with the passage of time.

The piper folded his legs up toward his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. He wasn't entirely sure of what he would do now. Obviously, continuing to avoid the Redcoats was his first priority, but he had no ideas beyond that. He wondered why he wasn't with his laird and was worried that the McLarens had been wiped out when he suddenly remembered what had happened.

'_That's right, the Laird and Kirsty and all those other men….They were on a boat. And, and it was goin' to France, I think. They were leavin' Scotland and staying away until it got better.'_

'_But then…why dinna I nae go wit' them? I know that happened. I know it. And it must have happened before I went to, to…wherever it was I got to. But why dinna I stay with the Laird?'_

Jamie's head ached again, and he closed his eyes while he waited for the pain to end. He didn't remember receiving a blow to the skull or any other similar type of injury. Nor had he found any lumps or wounds when he searched for them a couple days ago. There seemed to be no physical reason for these headaches, and the piper began to wonder if he was going mad.

'_Mebbe that's it. Mebbe none of this, me bein' older or goin' to another world, is real. Mebbe that's why I cannae remember anythin'….'cause nothin' really happened.'_

The piper frowned and clenched his hands. He didn't want to believe that he was losing his sanity, but he was forced to admit that it would explain the strange dreams he'd been having.

When he finally did drop off the sleep last night, Jamie had dreamed of large, hairy beasts with clawed hands. They kept grabbing at him, roaring as they lumbered toward him. One of them had its paw around his throat right as he woke up. The night before that, he had nightmares of tall, silver men with sightless eyes and strange, droning voices. A burst of light came from one of them that made him twitch and tingle. He had barely managed to keep himself from screaming aloud as he came round from that one.

'_Is that why I keep dreaming of these beasties? 'Cause I've gone mad? But…if that's what 'tis, then why can I remember everything else jes fine? And, and my reflection and those shoes…they seem real enough….don' they? Och, I don' know what the truth is anymore….'_

Jamie scowled even more and hoisted himself to his feet. He didn't see any point to continuing with these questions mostly because he wasn't getting anywhere in answering them. If it was all real, there was nothing he could do about it now, and if he was going crazy…then he would simply have to deal with that as it came.

He crept along the bushes and trees and was about to step out into an open space on the moor when more gunfire stopped him. He crouched down to hide in the copse and watched a group of soldiers chase two Highlanders toward his location.

Jamie placed a hand on his sword and grimaced. He didn't know the men personally, but he would defend his countrymen to the death if necessary. He looked around him, his eyes landing on a pile of pebbles at his feet. He picked a handful of them up and waited until the soldiers came closer before throwing them as hard as he could.

"Wait!" one of the Redcoats shouted. "There must be more of them over there. It could be a trap."

The soldiers stopped their running and instead tried to aim at the fleeing Highlanders with their pistols. The two men jumped into the bushes and for a second it looked as if the soldiers might try again to follow them. The piper scooped up some more rocks and hurled in a different direction this time.

"Hold on, we don't know how many there are," the first soldier said. "We better get reinforcements. Besides, it's not as if they have anywhere to go."

The other two Redcoats nodded and they all retreated back into the moor. Jamie heaved a sigh of relief and moved from his hiding place while the other Highlanders did the same.

"That was close," Jamie said.

"That it was," one of them said. "We owe ye."

"Och, ye dinna owe me anything," Jamie insisted. "We Highlanders got to stick together against those Sassenachs."

"True, true," the other one said as he held out his hand to shake. "My name's Hamish. Hamish McDonald of the Clan Mackenzie. And this is my brother, Michael."

"James Robert McCrimmon," Jamie said as he shook Hamish's hand.

"McCrimmon?" Michael replied. "Son of Donald McCrimmon, by any chance?"

"That's right," Jamie nodded. "Piper to the Clan McLaren."

"Aye, ye're Jamie then," Hamish said with a grin. "I knew yer father. Brave man, and one of the finest pipers I ever knew. But Jamie, what of Colin McLaren? We heard he and his daughter Kirsty have vanished."

"Nae vanished, escaped," Jamie said.

Then he went on to tell them about how he and the laird had been captured by the English soldiers and had almost been hanged, drowned and sold into slavery. Additionally, he told them about the strange little man and his friends who had been taken prisoner with them and who helped them escape before sending them off on a boat.

"That's quite a tale," Hamish said when it was over. "Ye certainly were lucky."

"Aye," Jamie said with a hint of a smile. "But it was jes as much that doctor as anything else. He's the daftest chap ye ever could meet, but he's verra clever. Cleverest man I've ever seen."

"But Jamie, why dinna ye go wit' the laird on the boat?" Michael asked. "Why did ye stay behind?"

Jamie's smile fell and he looked away.

"I…I dinna ken," he muttered. "Something must have happened. I, I cannae…."

"What aboot that doctor chap?" Michael said. "Did ye go wit' him?"

"No, I…I dinna know," Jamie said. "I remember being there on the boat, with the laird and the doctor, but then I…I must have been goin' somewhere. But where?"

"Ye mean, ye don' know?" Hamish asked, incredulous. "What aboot yer duty to yer laird? As his piper ye would have a sworn oath of fealty to him."

"I have nae forgotten that," Jamie growled at him. "But there was somethin', some reason why I did nae go. I…"

Another headache bloomed in his skull and Jamie gritted his teeth while grabbing at his temples.

"What's wrong wit' ye?" Michael asked. "Did ye hurt yer head?"

"No," Jamie gasped. "I mean, yes. Mebbe I did. I cannae remember. It's been hurting like this ever since I saw that my face was…."

"Was what?" Hamish asked. "What do ye mean?"

Jamie rubbed his head as the throbbing started to fade and walked over toward Hamish.

"How old am I?" Jamie asked him. "I mean, how old do I look to ye?"

"How old?" Hamish repeated. "Don' ye ken?"

"Ye're bewitched," Michael chimed in. "That's what 'tis. Something must have happened during the battle."

"Aye, mebbe it did," Jamie nodded. "S-sorry, I, I guess I'm jes tired and it's making my head hurt. All this running and fighting…."

"Och, that's no surprise," Hamish said. "Wander around alone on these moors for tae long and the ghosts are bound to have their way wit' ye. Hey, ye should go wit' us. We're making a run for our clan's hideout about three miles from here. We're nae sure what we're doin' after that…but ye're welcome to join us if ye like."

"Thank you," Jamie said. "Much obliged."

Michael opened his mouth to say something else, but a yell nearby stopped him.

"Redcoats!" he hissed. "We got to get out of here."

"There they are! Fire at will."

The three of them whirled around to see five British soldiers marching toward them. The Highlanders threw themselves to the ground just as the shooting started and crawled around in the underbrush.

"We've got to make a run for it," Hamish said. "We'll ne'er last here."

"But there's tae many of those Sassenachs," Michael replied. "We'll ne'er make it."

Jamie ground his jaw and pulled out his claymore.

"When I give the word, ye two run," the piper said. "I'll try and draw them oof."

Hamish looked as if he was about to protest, but before he could say a word; Jamie leapt up and swung his blade around in the air.

"Craeg au tuire!" he shouted as he hopped over a thicket and ran off. Three of the soldiers ended up following him while the other two stayed to fight Hamish and Michael.

Jamie sped through the forest as fast as he could, zigzagging along so as to make it harder for the soldiers to shoot him. Eventually, he realized that he was heading for a clearing and would soon be out in the open, thus becoming a much easier target.

However, just as he was about to leave the woods, he found a large chasm in the forest floor, the sides lined with dense bushes. Jamie noted that it was a steep drop and wasn't sure if there was a way out of it. Still, with three Redcoats almost upon him, it was the best option he had. He shoved his sword back into its sheath and prepared to jump.

"Stop him," one of the soldiers yelled. "Don't let him get away."

Jamie jumped, but the Redcoats were faster. There was a hail of gunfire and one of their bullets managed to hit its mark. The piper grabbed his side and cried out as he fell. After hitting the bottom, he laid still.

The soldiers walked over to the edge of the pit and peered down at him.

"Think he's dead?" one of them asked.

"Looks dead to me," another answered. "Come on, let's go find the others. They may need help getting rid of the rest of those Jacobite dogs." The soldiers scurried away, disappearing into the trees.

But, as it turned out, Jamie had merely been knocked unconscious. He slowly came to and crawled along the ground. He fell over a couple of times due his dizziness and the wound in his side, but eventually he was able to sit himself up and check for damage. The bullet wound was shallow and there didn't seem to be any shrapnel left behind. He pressed his shirt over the wound and was relieved that he wasn't bleeding all that much.

A part of him was tempted to just lie down and wait for the end, but the fighter in him refused to give up. He looked around the pit for a way out and discovered that there was a hole on one side.

'_I wonder where that goes. Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out.'_

Jamie blinked several more times until he could see straight again and then crawled into the hole. He couldn't tell if this was a way out, but right now it didn't seem to matter all that much.

Not to someone who had nowhere to go and nothing to look forward to.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Next chapter. It looks like this one will end up having five chapters instead of four. But I think it will work out better this way. I hope my readers will agree. :)

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

Chapter Three

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and smiled at the sight in front of him.

He could see the hillsides through a gap in the forest he was currently in. The day was just beginning to wane and the sky was aglow with a rosy hue, highlighted with streaks of gold. The hills rippled as a strong breeze swayed the grasses and flowers. The Doctor had been to Scotland many times and couldn't help but agree with Jamie that it was one of the most beautiful places he had seen in all his travels.

A bank of fluffy clouds drifted toward him, blotting out the sun, the breeze growing cooler. As pretty as this scenery was, it was also a reminder of the daunting task in front of him. He had to try to find Jamie among this vast wilderness while making sure to avoid any trouble from the English soldiers who were still prowling the countryside.

The Doctor patted the satchel slung over his shoulder and started to walk. This time, he had made sure to be prepared and had packed several useful items he imagined would come in handy. The wind picked up, his long, black cloak billowing around him. The Doctor frowned when he sensed that it would rain soon.

Several minutes later, the sound of a twig snapping reached his ear. The Doctor immediately stopped and held out his hands in what he hoped would be seen as a placating gesture.

"Whoever you are, I mean you no harm," he said, putting on his best German accent. "I'm just a traveler."

At first, there was no response. The Doctor wondered if he could take that to mean that he had been granted permission to pass. He took a couple steps forward when suddenly a pair of men in kilts jumped out in front of him, their swords pointed in his direction. The Doctor's hands shot up into the air.

"Who are ye?" one of the Highlanders said. "Ye're nae English."

"I'm German," the Doctor replied. "Doctor Von Wer, at your service."

"A doctor, eh?" the other man said. "And jes what are ye doin' here?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine," the Doctor said. "We were traveling together and got separated. Perhaps you might know where he iz. He's a piper for ze Clan McLaren."

"A piper?" the first man said. "The only pipers around here are lyin' dead on the moors. Shot down by those Sassenach brutes."

"Wait," the other Highlander said, lowering his sword at last. "Did ye say the Clan McLaren? Colin McLaren?"

"Yes, yes, zat iz right," the Doctor nodded eagerly. "Ze two of us, me and my friend, helped ze Laird and his daughter escape to France with your countrymen."

"Say…I know who ye are now," the first man said as he put away his sword. "We heard aboot that, dinna we Hamish? Aboot how Colin McLaren and his daughter got away wit' the help of some German doctor."

"That's right," the one named Hamish said, nodding. "Ye mean, ye're him? The doctor?"

"Zat iz me," the Doctor said. "My friend and I were to meet here so I could get him to safety as well. His name iz James Robert McCrimmon."

"McCrimmon?" the first man said. "Aye, of course we all know of the McCrimmons. Finest pipers in all the Highlands."

"Ye're askin' aboot the bairn of the family, young Jamie," Hamish said. "Aye, we know him."

"Yes, good, have you seen him?" the Doctor asked urgently. "Vas he able to get away from Inverness after ze ship left?"

"After the ship left?" Hamish repeated. "Why man, that was three days ago since Colin McLaren and his daughter left Scotland."

The Doctor's mouth fell open and he goggled at Highlanders in front of him.

'_Three days?! But that's not possible! Those coordinates were supposed to send me here only minutes after Jamie's return to this time stream.'_

'_Unless…of course, the time eddy! It must have thrown the TARDIS even farther off course than I thought. But that means that Jamie's been back here, in the middle of this war zone, for three whole days. Anything could have happened to him during that time. And if anything does happen to him, I can't go back and change it because it would affect my own time stream. The Time Lords would never allow it!'_

"I see," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "We must have missed each other then. But tell me, have you seen him since ze McLarens left?"

Hamish and the other man looked at each other, their expressions suddenly far more somber. The exchange heightened the anxiety the Doctor already felt over Jamie.

"Aye, we did see him," Hamish said finally. "A couple of those Sassenachs were chasing me and Michael here when we ran across him. We managed to lose them with his help. He told us aboot what ye did. Funny thing though, he dinna mention traveling wit' ye."

"Completely bewildered he was," Michael nodded. "He dinna know why he was nae with his laird or where he was goin'. He kept talking to himself, sayin' all sorts of odd things. Kept sayin' his head hurt tae."

The Doctor frowned, his hearts sinking. From what they had just told him, he guessed that the memory wipe the Time Lords had used on Jamie had not been entirely effective and had actually done far more harm than good.

'_Not to mention the fact that, by now, it's likely that he has noticed some changes in his physical makeup due his being over four years older than he was when he left Scotland with me,' _he thought to himself._ 'Add that to the apparent gap in his recollection right after our first adventure together…. Oh, poor Jamie. No wonder he's so confused.'_

"It sounds like he needs medical care," the Doctor said. "I would like to help him, if I can. Where iz he now?"

"We were trying to make it to a hideout my clan's got here in the woods," Hamish said. "But then some more Redcoats appeared out of nowhere. We thought we were dead, but then Jamie…. He told us to run while he drew them away."

"Aye, a brave piper he was," Michael sighed. "He brought much honor to his clan."

"You, you mean he's…." the Doctor stuttered. "You saw him…."

"We dinna actually see what happened," Hamish said. "The last we saw of Jamie, he had three Redcoats chasing him. After that, we know nothing."

"But there's little chance," Michael said. "Those Sassenachs were bearing doon on him and they were nae likely to give up. I don' see how he could have lost them."

The Doctor let out a shaky sigh. He was relieved that they had not seen Jamie get killed, but he was worried that they were right about the soldiers not giving up so easily.

"Which direction did you see them go in?" the Doctor asked.

"Up toward yon hills," Hamish said, pointing toward the east. "Say, ye're nae thinking of goin' up there, are ye? That'll take ye through the heart of the battlefield. 'Tis the land of phantoms now. And if those spirits don' have wit' ye, those Redcoats will."

"It iz a chance I'll have to take," the Doctor said resolutely. "Thank you for all your help."

"Ye're a strange chap," Michael said. "But ye don' lack courage. I'll give ye that. Come on, Hamish. We go."

"Right," Hamish said. "Doctor, we thank ye for helping the McLarens and many more of our countrymen escape. And if ye run any more of us, jes mention my name, Hamish McDonald, and say to them 'the wind dances wit' the heather'. That'll let them know that ye are friendly to my clan."

"I'll remember," the Doctor nodded. "And good luck to you."

"Farewell Doctor," Hamish said as he and Michael ran off. "I hope ye find Jamie all right."

The Doctor watched them disappeared into the trees before heading off in the direction that Hamish had indicated. His mood was even grimmer than it had been before, but the Doctor refused to give up all hope. Jamie had managed to survive in the midst of this war zone before. There was no reason why he couldn't do it again.

For now, the Doctor would treat this as a matter of finding the young Scot before anything truly regrettable happened to him.

* * *

It was only a few miles before the Doctor realized what Hamish had warned him about.

He had just come up over a hill and was shocked to find the plain below him littered with corpses. From the look of it, a major part of the battle had occurred here, and the greatest losses were clearly on the side of the Jacobites.

The Doctor shook his head sadly as he tread among the bodies. As much as he admired and had a particular fondness for the human race, he was also all too aware that they could be capable of terrible atrocities toward each other. Normally, he would have at least a tinge of disgust at such carnage. However, this time, he only felt saddened by this tragic waste of life. As he glanced at the faces of the dead, his hearts ached.

'_This is what Jamie would have just experienced when I met him,' _he mused. '_All this bloodshed, so much death. And all of it for such a hopeless cause. How many of these people did Jamie know? How many of his friends are lying here? How many family members did he lose in these battles?'_

'_How many people who were precious to his heart did he have to watch die?'_

It was a grotesque chore, but he checked every single corpse to make sure that Jamie wasn't among them. By the end of it, the sun had almost set and his hearts were heavier than they had been in years. The Doctor realized that he now had a much more vivid understanding of the horrors the piper had gone through at the Battle of Culloden. This awareness fueled his desire to find Jamie and to do whatever he could to alleviate the suffering the Scot endured both before and now again after being returned to this part of his time line.

Meanwhile, the clouds had grown darker and a light rain was misting down. The Doctor pulled a plastic sheet out of his satchel that he was able to layer on top of his cloak and over his head. Then he moved into the nearby forest to continue his search.

Nightfall came, and the Doctor retrieved a torch out of his bag so he could explore the area more thoroughly. The Doctor suspected that any English soldiers who were still on the moors would be reluctant to venture into the woods at night and in this weather. Still, he would need to be cautious for his sake and for Jamie's.

The rain steadily increased in its intensity, causing the temperature to drop down from refreshingly cool to a bitter chill. It also reduced his ability to discern his surroundings. For a moment, the Doctor thought about finding shelter and waiting until the rain stopped before resuming his search. Then he remembered that Jamie could be caught out in this weather too and that was more than enough to persuade him to continue.

He eventually reached the edge of the forest and was moving toward another open field. The rain had become relentless. Sheets of water rolled off every surface in waves. He spied a bothy nearby and wondered if perhaps the piper had taken shelter there.

Then almost as quickly as it had arrived, the rain tapered off. All that remained was that same icy mist that had preceded it. The Doctor wiped off his torch and swept the light into a circle around him. Suddenly, a flash of red caught his eye. He focused the light on the source of color and discovered that it was from a very familiar-looking kilt.

Hearts racing, the Doctor dashed over and found a body lying face down, mostly hidden in the undergrowth. He gingerly maneuvered the figure onto its back. The Doctor shined the light on the figure's face and almost dropped his torch in the very next second.

"Jamie!" he gasped. "Jamie, are you all right? Answer me!"

The Doctor propped the light onto a bent branch so he could examine the piper. Jamie's face was ashen, his eyes closed. He checked for a pulse and cried out in relief when he discovered a sluggish, but steady heartbeat.

'_He's too cold,' _he thought to himself. '_Probably the beginnings of exposure. Goodness knows this rain didn't do him any good.'_

The Doctor felt along the piper's scalp and winced when he found a lump near his hairline with thin line of blood trickling down his forehead. He gently peeled back Jamie's eyelids and was relieved to see no signs of concussion.

'_Looks like he had the wind knocked out of him. I'm sure that won't help with those headaches he's been having.' _

He ran his hands along the piper's torso to check for injuries. One of his hands brushed across a spot where the fabric of his shirt was stained with a rusty hue, the contact causing Jamie to let out a weak groan. The Doctor moved the shirt away to find what looked like a bullet wound on his lower right side.

'_Appears to be superficial. Yes…it looks like the bullet just grazed him. Still, he has probably lost more blood than he should. I've got to get him out of here.'_

The Doctor snatched his torch out of the branches and stuffed it back into his bag. The TARDIS was several miles away. While he could easily make it back, even while carrying Jamie, the Doctor knew that Jamie wouldn't fare well on the journey. He remembered the bothy he saw a short distance away and decided that that would be his best option.

Moving slowly and carefully, the Doctor lifted Jamie up from the ground and walked over to the hut. When he got there, he noticed that there weren't any lights or other signs of life inside. He pushed the door open and quickly realized that, not only was there no one there, there hadn't been for quite a while. Satisfied, the Doctor nudged the door shut behind him and gently placed Jamie onto a cot of straw at the corner of the main room. Then he closed all the shutters and tried to cover them as best he could with some rags he found on the floor.

'_It's night and it's overcast,' _he thought as he worked. '_So as long as I don't let any light out through the windows, we should go unnoticed by anyone who might pass by. The clouds will conceal the smoke if I light up the fireplace.'_

Once he was done with the windows, the Doctor stripped of his plastic cloak, retrieved his torch, and sat it up on a rickety wooden table. He found some scraps of wood and cloth and threw them into the fireplace before lighting it with one of the instruments from his satchel. Soon, the fire roared to life. The Doctor smiled at the crackling flames which warmed the bothy considerably.

Then he picked up his torch and went over to tend to Jamie. The piper's clothes were dirty and thoroughly soaked. The Doctor helped him out of them and into a clean, dry set of garments consisting of a loose jumper and another kilt. He took out a first-aid kit from his bag, cleaned the bullet wound, and dressed it in bandages that would promote faster healing and prevent infection. He gently brushed the dirt away from the gash on Jamie's head and bandaged it as well. After he was finished, the Doctor let out a long sigh and pulled a rough blanket he found up to Jamie's shoulders before putting his torch away. He was pleased to see some color already returning to the piper's face.

Seconds later, Jamie let out another moan and began to stir.

"N-no," he muttered. "No…No…no, don'. Keep away…."

The Doctor knelt beside the bed and placed his hand onto Jamie's forehead.

"Jamie," he murmured. "Jamie, listen to me. It's all right now. You're safe."

Jamie's eyes cracked open slightly, his head lolling to the side to face him.

"Ye?" he rasped. "Who…who are ye?"

"A friend," the Doctor replied, patting his shoulder. "Just relax and try and get some sleep."

"W-wait," the piper said, clawing at the Doctor's arm. "Don' go."

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise," the Doctor smiled at him. "Now, you should rest."

"Aye…rest," Jamie slurred as his eyes slid back shut. "Doc—tor…."

The Scot fell unconscious while the Doctor blinked hard. He hadn't expected Jamie to recognize him.

'_And yet, I don't think he did,' _he pondered. '_Not entirely. It was more like it came from just beyond the edge of his conscious mind. The memories are definitely still there, fighting to assert themselves. Probably manifesting themselves as dreams or snatches of fantasy.'_

The Doctor smiled sadly and ruffled the piper's hair. The more he thought about it, the more it didn't surprise him that Jamie still had some recollection of him. Bonds of loyalty and friendship such as what existed between the two of them could never be erased completely. It was something most Time Lords could not begin to comprehend thus why they could not anticipate it in their attempts to manipulate the Scot's memories.

The Doctor rose to his feet and was looking for a chair when something pounded at the door. He grabbed the pile of wet clothes and shoved them under a patch of straw. Then he rooted about in his satchel until he found a tiny pouch that was tied shut with a ribbon. He smiled, stuffed this into one of his pockets and cracked open the door.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked, slipping back into his German accent. "What do you vant?"

The door was pushed open some more, and the Doctor could see a man standing outside who was wearing a soldier's uniform.

"I, sir, am Captain Reginald White of the King's Army," the man said. "My men and I are looking for rebels who are said to be hiding throughout this area. Perhaps a better question would be who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Actually, zat iz two questions," the Doctor replied with a slight smile.

"I warn you sir," White said, his hand moving toward his musket. "I'm not in the most patient of moods."

"Yes, yes, I understand, of course," the Doctor said meekly. "I do apologize. I'm Doctor Von Wer. At your service, sir. My assistant and I were traveling toward Inverness when we got lost. My assistant caught a chill on ze moors. I found zis old cottage and thought we could stay here until it passed."

"What business do you have in Inverness?" White asked.

"We came from Germany to consult with some colleagues about ze latest surgical techniques," the Doctor replied. "If successful, it will revolutionize ze medical field."

"I see," the captain nodded. "And how do I know that you are telling the truth? You might be spies, working for the cause of these rebels."

"Spies?" the Doctor replied, laughing nervously. "How absurd. Tell me, Captain, do I really look like a spy to you?"

"No, I suppose you do not," White said. "Still, I'm not entirely sure I believe your story either. Perhaps I should take you to Inverness myself so I can confirm it."

"But I tell you, my assistant iz ill," the Doctor insisted. "He can't be moved."

The captain leaned in through the doorway and glanced over at Jamie who was fast asleep. He scanned the rest of the bothy before looking back at the Doctor.

"He looks strong enough to me," White said. "Besides, you're a doctor. If anything happens, you can take care of him, can you not?"

"Yes, I can, but why take vat risk?" the Doctor said. "Surely, we can arrive at some other arrangement."

"Other arrangements?" White said, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "What did you have in mind?"

The Doctor beamed and pulled out the pouch from his pocket.

"I keep some spare funds for use in my travels," he said. "For emergencies, mind you. I would consider it a great kindness if you would delay escorting us to Inverness until my assistant iz well enough to travel. And of course, I would be more than willing to reimburse you for your trouble."

The Doctor yanked the ribbon away to reveal a small pile of gold coins. The captain peered down, his eyes lighting up.

"Spare funds indeed," White said, a smile finally appearing on his face. "That is at least thirty guineas."

"So it iz," the Doctor said. "I'm sure vat will satisfy any need for compensation for ze inconveniences I've caused you."

"It might," White said. "But tell me, Doctor, what exactly is stopping me from simply confiscating these funds and taking you and your assistant to Inverness under guard tonight?"

"You're an honorable man, Captain," the Doctor said, his grin wide and innocent. "And as an honorable man, you would, of course, be obligated to consider ze rest of your men if word were to get out about your acquisition. However, if you were to go and we remained here, it would be a private matter. You are not bound to discuss such affairs with your men."

"That is true enough," White said. "Well, Doctor, I think we can reach an understanding."

The captain reached over and snatched up the pouch of coins out of the Doctor's hand.

"But, but surely you do not mean to take all of it?" the Doctor stuttered. "What if we run short of travel funds?"

"I'm sure your colleagues in Inverness will see to it that you have the means to return to your homeland," the captain said as he stuffed the pouch into his pocket. "Now, I believe that my men and I are done in this area for the time being. Say two or three days. However, if we were to return after that time and still find people here, we would have no alternative, but to arrest them under suspicion of working with the rebels."

"You make your point quite clear, Captain," the Doctor frowned. "I can assure you vat you will not need to make it again."

"Good," White said, backing away from the door. "Things are so much easier when everyone understands one another. Good night to you, Doctor. Do have a pleasant journey."

The soldier turned and left, motioning to a group of men who were standing a short distance away. As soon as they entered the woods, the Doctor closed the door and leaned against it while wiping his brow with his handkerchief.

'_Well that was close. In this situation, I suppose it's fortunate that there are always greedy people available who are willing to be persuaded to forget their assigned duties and look the other way.'_

The Doctor shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket. He saw a chair near the wall and pulled it over so he could sit next to Jamie. The piper was snoring softly, still in a deep slumber. The Doctor checked his pulse again and was pleased that it seemed a little stronger now. Then he took one of Jamie's hands into both of his.

"Jamie, I am so sorry," he whispered. "This is entirely my fault. I should have been here sooner."

He squeezed Jamie's hand and turned his gaze to the fire. Now that he was able to stop and rest, his mind kept going back to when he found Jamie lying face down on the ground in the forest. For a brief moment, he had thought that he had been too late. Both of his hearts were gripped with an icy terror as he ran over to what he thought was the piper's corpse.

"_I will never forgive myself if anything's happened to Jamie."_

He remembered saying that a long time ago while in the midst of his first dealings with the Ice Warriors. When he said it, he had had no doubt in his mind of the truth behind those words. However, back then he could not have foreseen how much more weight those words would hold in the future. His fondness for the piper continued to quietly grow while they traveled together, exploring all of time and space while running straight into all sorts of trouble.

It wasn't until the Time Lords had forced Jamie to leave him that the Doctor realized just how deep-seated this fondness had become. Far from diminishing his affection, the decades the Doctor had spent alone as a servant of the CIA had only made it even more substantial as it became one of the few things he could draw upon to keep his sense of self in order.

However, he was painfully aware that memory was no substitute for reality. Thus, he surreptitiously petitioned to get Jamie back at every opportunity. It had required him to swallow his pride many times, but pride seemed like a small price to pay for his sanity.

The Doctor looked back down at the piper's sleeping face. He had been so determined to regain Jamie as a companion that he had lost sight of what kind of life he would be offering the young Scot. Seeing Jamie injured and alone had remedied that mistake.

'_Those blasted CIA assignments are almost always inexcusably dangerous. Even more dangerous than this civil war. There'll always be a chance that he could be hurt…or worse.'_

'_And even if I could keep him safe, what then? A lifetime of carrying out the CIA's orders, completing one duplicitous mission after another? I have other lifetimes, other incarnations to look forward to, but Jamie only has the one lifespan. How can I ask him to squander it just to keep me company?'_

The Doctor squeezed Jamie's hand again and bowed his head. During their travels together, Jamie, through his unwavering loyalty and close friendship, had given him far more than he could ever repay. It was wrong to expect him to continue on with this generosity at the cost of his home, his freedom and his future.

'_It's all right,' _the Doctor told himself. '_I wanted to make sure that Jamie would be out of harm's way. I can still make that happen. I can find a place for him here on Earth where he would be free to live a full, happy life. I wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. And besides, I have my chance to see him one last time and say goodbye. That will be enough.'_

The Doctor leaned back against the wall. He was confident that Sardon would not be pleased with whatever plan he came up with for Jamie, but he also didn't care.

He would see this task through to the end whatever the consequences may be.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Next chapter...and a very long one at that. At this rate, I should have the last one up by the end of the week. In the meantime, I hope my readers enjoy this (large) update. :)

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

Chapter Four

It was well into the afternoon the following day when Jamie woke up.

He remembered very little of the night before. After he had burrowed his way out of the pit he had fallen into, he had staggered about at the edge of the forest. However, exhaustion and all the abuse he had taken over the past three days finally caught up with him. He collapsed into the underbrush and had only managed to partially conceal himself before passing out.

As for what happened after that, Jamie wasn't entire sure how much of it was real. He had a vague impression of someone carrying him and of waking up in a bed of straw. There had been a voice, reassuring and kind, speaking to him. It made him feel secure and cared for and had encouraged him to rest. For most of the night, Jamie remained in a calming slumber, his mind at peace.

It wasn't until the very end that the nightmares returned. More monsters unlike anything he could have ever dreamed of came at him. Their pace was slow, but for some reason, Jamie found he couldn't get away from them. One of them grabbed both of his forearms and squeezed, the pain bringing the piper to his knees.

Jamie let out a cry as his eyes flew open and he bolted upright. Each dream he had had recently was a little more vivid than the previous one. This latest one had seemed more like a memory than a dream. The piper felt a cold tingle of dread at what that implied about his state of mind.

"Jamie? Jamie, are you all right?"

Jamie blinked hard and looked over to see a man dressed in a scruffy suit and voluminous, black cloak walking in through a doorway. The piper swiveled his head several times to take in his surroundings. He had somehow ended up in a run-down bothy and assumed that the man standing in front of him had something to do with it. For a split second, he thought about defending himself or fleeing, but something about the man's eyes told him that he had nothing to fear.

"I, I'm all right," he said, raising a shaky hand up to his brow. His bangs were damp with sweat. "What is this place?"

"Well, it's a cottage," the man said, sitting down beside him on the bed. "As for who it belongs to, I couldn't tell you. I found it myself only last night when I brought you here. I'd say it's deserted."

"Ah, well I'm obliged to ye for helping me out," Jamie said, rubbing his eyes. "Wait…ye know my name. Who are ye?"

The man's face fell, and Jamie couldn't understand why his question had that effect on him.

"Jamie," the man said, his voice friendly, but tinged with sadness. "Are you sure that you don't recognize me?"

Jamie squinted and rubbed his eyes. Truthfully, the man did look familiar. At first, the only thing he could think of was how much he looked like the man from his dream, the one who had seemed so important to him. But a few seconds later, another answer came to him.

"Aye, I know ye," the piper said. "Ye're that Doctor Von Wer chap. Ye helped me and Kirsty and the Laird escape."

"Yes, Jamie," the man said, nodding. "Very good."

"But, Doctor Von Wer…."

"It's just 'Doctor', Jamie," the man interrupted. "Von Wer was just a way to avoid some unnecessary questions."

"All right, Doctor, what are ye doin' here?" Jamie asked. "I thought ye had somewhere to go. Hey, that's right, ye were travelin' wit' yer friends: Ben and Polly. Say, are they here tae?"

"I'm afraid not," the Doctor replied, his eyes flicking away for a second. "They had been traveling with me for a while and….well, it was time that they returned home."

"So they went back to England then," Jamie nodded. "Are ye goin' to keep traveling alone then or are ye goin' back home tae?"

"Hard to say," the Doctor said, his tone oddly tense. "Well, now that you're awake, let's see how you are fairing."

The Doctor reached over and carefully brushed the piper's hair away from the bandage on his temple. He peeled away a corner of it and inspected it for a moment before nodding.

"Head looks all right," he mumbled. "But what about your other injury?"

The Doctor put a hand to his shoulder and gently pushed Jamie to lie down again. The piper complied and watched as the Doctor moved the shirt he was wearing aside and examined where the bullet had nicked his side. Jamie had flinched in anticipation of pain at the Doctor's prodding and was surprised when it didn't come. The Scot maneuvered his head so he could see what the other man was doing.

"Hey, how did ye…?" Jamie asked, astonished. "How did ye make it heal that much already?"

"Let's just say I've had some advanced training," the Doctor replied with a chuckle. "Yes, that looks much better. You should be completely recovered in another day or two. Now then, would you like something to eat? I could get you some porridge."

"Ah yes, thank ye," Jamie said eagerly as he sat back up. "I'm fare famished."

The Doctor nodded and got up from the bed. Jamie yawned and watched him rummage through a worn, leather sack. Even though he had only known the Doctor for a short while, he was grateful for his company as well as his assistance.

While he waited for the food, Jamie scratched the side of his head. He looked down at his arm and realized that his tattered shirt had been replaced with a long-sleeved, grey garment of a style he hadn't seen before. He ran his hand along the sleeve and smiled. The material was softer and warmer than his other shirt and Jamie found that he didn't care about the odd style. He lifted his blanket to see that he had on another kilt that was identical to the one he was wearing before. Jamie guessed that the Doctor had dressed him in these clothes, but a part of him was wondering how the Doctor just happened to have garments that fit him perfectly, complete with his usual style of kilt.

"There you are," the Doctor said as he brought over a small, blue bowl with a spoon sticking out of it. "Eat up."

Jamie took the bowl with both hands and sat it on his lap.

"Thank ye," he said, picking up the spoon and shoving a heaping scoop into his mouth. "Say, this tastes like ye just got it from the pot. But yon fireplace looks completely cold. When did ye…?"

"Oh, I was able to keep it warm in the bag," the Doctor interrupted. "Now, how is it?"

"Good," the piper said between bites. "Really good. I cannae remember the last time anything I had was this good."

The Doctor beamed at him again and quietly sat on the chair beside the bed while Jamie ate. Occasionally, Jamie glanced over at him. The memories he had of the Doctor were few, but they were becoming clearer and they were not congruent with the man next to him. The Doctor he remembered had an impish grin which was a perfect match for his liveliness and curiosity. This Doctor was unusually still, seemingly tired. There were other things that did not seem right to him, but Jamie could not put a finger on what they were.

Once his bowl was empty, the Doctor took it away and shoved it back into his bag. Jamie's eyelids drooped which did not escape the other man's notice.

"You should get some more sleep," the Doctor said, patting his arm. "You've had a very rough time of it."

"Aye, sleep," Jamie said with another yawn. He was just about to fall back down onto the straw when the thought of sleep reminded him of the dreams.

"No!" the piper said, jerking himself awake.

"Jamie? What's wrong?" the Doctor asked, concern lacing his tone.

Jamie gripped the blanket in his hands, picking at and twisting the scratchy material. Every instinct he had told him to keep his mouth shut and to not breathe a word about the dark visions in his head or the faults in his memory. And yet, something deeper, something that went to the very core, told Jamie that this was the one person who could do something about them.

"Doctor," he said, his voice nearly a whisper. "I…I…."

"Jamie…?"

"Doctor, there's somethin'…wrong wit' me," the piper burst out. "My head, it keeps aching. And nae jes 'cause of when I hit it. Sometimes, the pain is so bad, I cannae see straight. I don' know where the aches come from or why. But they're real. I swear to ye, they're real. And, and there's more…."

Jamie felt his stomach lurch, sweat beading on his forehead again. He knew he had to continue, but fear stopped the words in his throat. Speaking this next part aloud would give it credence and power. It would be conceding defeat to the madness that threatened his soul.

Jamie gulped loudly and took a deep breath. No matter what, he was still a McCrimmon and would not let his fear rule him. Especially when there was a chance that he could still win the fight.

"Doctor, I…" he said. "I know we have nae known each other long, but I must know…do I, well do I seem the same to ye? I mean from when ye first met me?"

"The same?" the Doctor said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…do I look older to ye?" Jamie said, fighting to get the words out. "I know it does nae make sense, but when I look at my face, I know that it's nae the one I had when I met ye nae so long ago. I cannae say how it happened, but it must have been years between when I first saw ye and now."

Jamie, confident that he sounded like a raving lunatic, let out a long sigh. By now, he saw no point in holding anything back.

"Then there are the dreams," he said, his head drooping in chagrin. "No, more like visions I get when I sleep. Visions of all sorts of horrible beasties. Tall, silver beasties that look like men wit' no eyes and great, hairy beasties wit' huge claws for hands. And jes now, jes before I woke up a wee while ago, I dreamt of these giant creatures, green and scaly, with voices that were evil whispers. They grabbed my arms…."

The piper reflexively rubbed his forearms, the pain from his dream briefly manifesting itself onto his limbs. He finally dared to look up from his lap and was dejected to see the Doctor staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"I know it's all mad," Jamie said around the lump that was forming in his throat. "And…and mebbe that's what I am. Mebbe I've gone mad. Or mebbe the faeries got to me and I'm bewitched."

The Scot's eyes burned and grew wet as he grabbed the Doctor's arm without any forethought.

"Tell me, is that why the Laird left me behind?" he demanded. "Did he think me possessed by evil and drove me away? Or did I…did I do somethin' wrong? Some terrible, dishonorable thing that left him no choice but to cast me aside?"

Tears wobbled down Jamie's cheeks. The loss of his friends and family, the physical abuse he had endured while on the run, the days and nights spent in fear for his life and his sanity: all of it shattered his remaining defenses and he wasn't able to stop himself from blubbering like a bairn.

"Please Doctor," he sobbed, his grip tightening on the other man's arm. "Please help me. I…I…."

Jamie covered his face with his hands, ashamed and overwhelmed by what he had revealed. He was about to crawl under the blanket when a pair of arms enveloped him, a gentle hand stroking his hair.

"Oh Jamie," the Doctor murmured in his ear. "My poor Jamie. I am sorry. The wrong that was done to you…no apologies could ever be sufficient."

The piper rested his head against the Doctor's shoulder. He could not fathom why it felt so natural, so familiar, to have someone he barely knew holding him like this, but the gesture was welcome and comforting just the same. Soon, his tears wound down, and Jamie was able to regain some composure. At that moment, the Doctor let him go and nudged him back so they could face each other. Then he placed both hands on the sides of Jamie's face and forced him to look him in the eye. The Scot blinked at how strangely cool the Doctor's hands were and at the solemn look on his face.

"You must listen to me, Jamie," he said, his tone serious and stern. "You are most certainly not mad."

"But, but those dreams…the beasties…."

"Jamie, I know that I am asking a lot of you, but you must trust me," the Doctor insisted. "There is nothing wrong with your mind…at least, nothing that had anything to do with you. And do not think for one second that you dishonored yourself or deserved to be abandoned. Of all the people I have met on my travels, I have rarely met anyone with even half as much honor as you, James Robert McCrimmon."

"Then, what is it then?" Jamie asked, swiping at his face. "What's wrong wit' me?"

The Doctor let his hands fall into his lap and sighed. He wasn't sure why, but Jamie sensed that now it was the Doctor's turn to struggle with his words.

"I know that this will be hard for you to understand in this situation, so I will try to keep it as straightforward as possible," the Doctor continued. "Simply put, Jamie, you are right about one thing: the reason you think you look older now is because you are. You are, in fact, about four years older than you were when we first met."

"Four years?" Jamie repeated, running a hand across his features. "But, then why does everyone else act like it's only been days?"

"Because for them it has only been days," the Doctor responded. "Whereas for you it's been years."

"Ye mean, I've really been there?" the Scot asked, incredulous. "To another realm?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," the Doctor said. "Actually, you've traveled with me to numerous other worlds and seen all sorts of incredible things."

"Ye mean, those things I saw, the beasties in my dreams, they were real?" Jamie asked.

"Yes, Jamie. Every single one of them as real as you or I."

"And ye say I traveled wit' ye?" he added. "But then, why cannae I remember any of it?"

The Doctor looked away, and Jamie was immediately suspicious at the way he avoided his eyes. He suddenly felt a vague sort of indignation and wished he understood where it came from.

"Jamie," the Doctor sighed again. "I know this is going to seem rather far-fetched…."

"Try me," Jamie said, defiantly crossing his arms over his chest.

"Very well," the Doctor said, looking back up at him. "The reason you can't remember is because those memories were taken from you."

"Taken? By who?"

"By people who thought they were doing what was best for you," the Doctor said wearily.

"Best?!" Jamie echoed, his ire rising. "They thought it was best for me to forget four years of my life? Did I even have a say in this?"

"No, you didn't," the Doctor said, slowly shaking his head. "Jamie, I am sorry."

Ye're sorry?!" the piper nearly shouted at him. "Is that all ye can say? Ye tell me that someone took away my memories and dinna even bother to ask me if I wanted them. And all ye can say is 'sorry'? And another thing…ye took me to all these other worlds wit' those terrible beasties, right? Then how come ye jes dropped back here without a word or a second thought, eh? Aye, are ye sorry aboot that tae?"

The Doctor did not reply and simply maintained his quiet gaze. Jamie was surprised to find no trace of irritation, anger or defensiveness. Only a mournful expression on the Doctor's face gave any clue to his state of mind. Something about that sorrowful look pulled at Jamie's heart and he felt his anger rapidly dissipate.

"Jes tell me one thing, Doctor," the piper said. "Can ye give them back? My memories?"

"Yes, I can," the Doctor said. "But Jamie, you don't know what you're asking me."

"What do ye mean?"

"I mean that the situation is not as simple as that," the Doctor said. "I know that doesn't make sense, but believe me when I say that regaining your memories will come at a price. A price that I can't fully explain to you, but that will shape the rest of your life. I, I don't see how I could possibly ask you to pay such a price."

For a second, Jamie felt resentful again at the thought of someone else supposedly acting in his 'best interests' without any input from him. However, the way the Doctor spoke to him and the look in his eyes convinced Jamie that he probably was sincere in his desire to shield him from some terrible consequence. He was hesitant about a consequence that could worry a man like the Doctor, but in the end, Jamie knew that there was only one choice he could make.

The Scot put a hand onto the Doctor's arm again and lightly clasped it. The Doctor responded with a hint of a smile, and Jamie found himself wanting to smile back at him.

"Look Doctor," he said. "I know ye said that there'll be some kind of price to get my memories back, but whatever it is, I'm willin' to pay it. I jes, I jes cannae go on like this, walking around wit' this blank in my head, ne'er knowing the truth. Whatever was in my life before, good or bad, I want it back. Please Doctor. Don' take away my right to choose like those other people did. Please."

The Doctor closed his eyes, and Jamie could feel the agony that gripped him as he struggled with this decision. After a long moment of silence, the Doctor reopened his eyes and nodded his head.

"All right," he said softly. "Yes, you're right, Jamie. It should be your choice and no one else's. I know that it probably doesn't mean very much to you by now, but I am genuinely sorry over what happened and for presuming that I should take this decision out of your hands."

"It's all right," Jamie said. "I forgive ye. So…what do I have to do?"

"Not much," the Doctor said. "Just sit there quietly and let me handle this."

The Doctor raised his hands and put them back on the sides of Jamie's face, his index fingers resting on the piper's temples. Then the Doctor leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Jamie's while closing his eyes.

"This may hurt a little, but I promise that it will soon pass," the Doctor assured him. "Now, just relax, and open your mind to me."

Jamie wasn't entirely sure what the Doctor meant by that, but did his best to comply. He thought of the Doctor and what he could remember of their adventure together when suddenly there was a rush of images flooding into his brain. Jamie's eyes watered and he cried out, but the Doctor held him still.

"It's all right, Jamie," the Doctor soothed in a distant droning voice. "It won't take much longer."

Jamie blinked several times and found it increasingly hard to see. Soon, his surroundings faded away completely and all he could see was a series of moments rapidly unfold in front of him.

"_Doctor, can we take him with us?" "If he teaches me to play the bagpipes." "If ye want, Doctor." _

"_You sound very happy, Jamie." "Oh aye, Doctor, I am now,….I'll ne'er know what makes it go, mind ye, but well at least I feel safe in here…."_

"_You will be safe, won't you?" "I'll look after him."_

"_When I say run, run. Promise me, Jamie."_

"_Look, either the Doctor's all right in which case we've got no reason to worry, or he's in danger and he needs my help."_

"_Goodbye Jamie." "I, I won't forget ye, ye know."_

'_No, no I don' want to go. I want to stay...Doctor….'_

"Doctor!"

Jamie blinked hard and suddenly realized that he was back in that abandoned bothy. He reached a hand to his face and felt fresh tears on his cheeks. The Doctor opened his eyes and released his hold on the piper's head as he moved away.

"I, I remember," he whispered. "Doctor, I remember. Ye, the TARDIS, Ben, Polly, Victoria, Zoe…I remember everything. I remember traveling wit' ye and all those people we met and the beasties…."

The piper wiped the tears off his face with the heel of his hand and shook his head, relieved that it no longer hurt. Thoughts that had been fractured and jumbled now fell into place. One by one, the episodes of his life on the TARDIS resumed their proper places in his memory until suddenly the last of them jolted him out of this reverie.

"Wait, wait, that's right," Jamie said excitedly. "I remember now, those people, yer people, the Time Lords, they caught us. They took us to yer world and were putting ye through some trial. They said they were sending Zoe and me back and…."

Jamie's words trailed off, a new anger stirring inside him.

"They did it," he growled. "The Time Lords. They made me forget ye. Forget everything. They put me back here and made me forget aboot traveling wit' ye."

"Yes, they did," the Doctor said sadly. "They decided that it would be better if you forgot your travels with me. You weren't supposed to remember anything other than when we first met. Unfortunately, the Time Lords simply did not understand how your mind works, Jamie."

"Oh aye, I'm pretty sure I can guess," Jamie snarled. "Ye're sayin' I'm tae simple for them."

"No, that's not it at all," the Doctor frowned. "I'm saying that your mind is far more organic and intuitive than they are used to. You don't follow set patterns of logic. Thinking and feeling are used in equal measure in your mental processes. These are things that are alien to most Time Lords. And quite frankly, they are nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, it's traits like these that make you so resilient to having your mind manipulated or controlled, and it is why it was so easy for me to undo what had been done to your memories."

"Och, fine," Jamie huffed. "But Doctor, what aboot ye, eh? What happened after me and Zoe left? Did they let ye go?"

"Not…exactly, Jamie, no," the Doctor said as he looked down into his lap. "In their eyes, I had broken their most important laws. I was found guilty, and now, now I am fulfilling the terms of my punishment."

Jamie shuddered. A feeling of dread coursed through him and he went back to clasping the Doctor's arm.

"What do ye mean, 'punishment'?" he asked. "What'd they do to ye?"

The Doctor pulled one arm out of his suit jacket and pushed up to sleeve. Jamie looked down to see a serpent tattooed on his arm.

"They marked me, Jamie," the Doctor said. "Branded me as a criminal. And now I have to work for them. There is a secret organization within Time Lord society: the Celestial Intervention Agency or CIA for short. They work in the shadows to ensure order, their version of order anyway, in the universe."

"But, I thought ye said ye got in trouble for interfering," Jamie said. "Aren't they breaking the law tae?"

"Officially, they most certainly are," the Doctor said. "But they don't work on an official level. You see, for all their talk about non-interference, the Time Lords are just as guilty as many other races of messing about with the lives of others. The only difference between what they do and what I did is that they have permission to act so long as they do it with the understanding that no one will know if and when they do it."

"But that's ridiculous," Jamie replied. "Jes 'cause they don' get caught, that makes it all right for them?"

"Yes well, trust me when I say that it only makes sense to them," the Doctor said with a wan smile. "Anyway, I am one of their agents now. Not by choice, I can assure you. I perform missions for them and in return, I'm allowed to delay the rest of my sentence and retain a few of the privileges I had as a fugitive."

"Delay? Ye mean they're goin' to do even more to ye?" Jamie gaped.

"Yes Jamie," the Doctor said, turning his face toward the window. "And it's only of matter of when, not if, it will happen. Until then, I must do what they say and follow their rules."

"Aye and what exactly are these 'privileges' they're so generously handing out?" Jamie scowled.

The Doctor turned his gaze back toward him, and Jamie felt his heart twist at the melancholic glint in his eyes.

"Well, if you must know, one of them is…you," the Doctor said. "The reason I was able to come here and restore your memories was because I had apparently earned the right to travel with someone again. They decided to grant me permission to see if you would be willing to be that person. Of course, if you decide to stay here, they will want me to block your memories again. Then, I will just have to wait until they decide that I can ask someone else."

"Ye mean, ye've been traveling around, doin' this work for them by yerself?" Jamie asked him. "What aboot Zoe?"

"I'm not allowed to contact her. I don't know if I will ever be."

Jamie felt his insides clench. He had never heard the Doctor sound so sad and defeated before and it was heartbreaking to listen to. As they were talking, the piper thought again about how the Doctor seemed different from how he remembered him before. It took him a few moments, but suddenly details like the silver strands in the Doctor's hair and the additional lines on his face jumped out at him. A chilling epiphany soon developed in his mind.

'_Wait…if those Time Lords put me here as if it'd only been days since I left wit' the Doctor…then how much time…?'_

"Doctor," he said aloud. "How long has it been? I mean, how long has it been since yer trial and ye serving out this punishment?"

"Oh well," the Doctor said with a nervous cough. "In your terms, I guess it's been about…fifty years. Give or take."

"Fifty years?!" Jamie breathed. "Ye mean, ye've been alone all that time?"

"Well not exactly alone, Jamie," the Doctor said. "In between missions, I often have to return to Gallifrey, my home world, and spend time there. And of course, there are the people I meet while I am working on my assignments."

Jamie frowned again. He had seen the Doctor do this before. Rather than be blunt when delivering a harsh truth to people who needed to hear it, the Doctor would often seek ways to soften the blow as much as possible and to reassure them that things are not as bad as they might appear.

Thinking back on the worn-out, dejected person that the Doctor had been for most of his visit, Jamie concluded that the Doctor was now doing this with him as a way to hide the toll that this punishment was taking on him. A part of him was frustrated at the apparent lack of trust on the Doctor's part. However, that was immediately tempered by the knowledge that the Doctor had a tendency to put the wellbeing of others far ahead of his own welfare. It was usually an admirable trait, but Jamie was also aware that the Doctor was constantly in danger of taking this tendency too far and making himself suffer even when there was no need for him to.

"Now," the Doctor said. "There are some things I need to tell you before you make a decision…."

"When do we leave?" Jamie interrupted.

"Jamie," the Doctor scolded. "I haven't had a chance to thoroughly explain the situation."

"Mebbe," the piper shrugged. "But ye can tell me all aboot it on our way back to the TARDIS. So when do we leave?"

"Jamie, for pity's sake think about what you're saying!" the Doctor snapped at him. "It's not going to be like it was before. If you leave with me, you'll be forced to undertake all sorts of horribly dangerous assignments."

"So, I'll be traveling around wit' ye and gettin' into trouble up to my neck," Jamie nodded. "Nothing unusual aboot that then."

"No, Jamie," the Doctor insisted. "I'm telling you, it's not the same at all. These missions aren't just dangerous. They're often thinly veiled attempts to exert control on the universe. Mind you, they might appear to be about helping others, but there's usually a much dirtier motive just beneath the surface."

"If these missions are so rotten, then why do they have ye doin' them?" Jamie asked.

"Because they're punishing me, that's why," the Doctor retorted hotly. "They make me do these things because they know they can. But Jamie, that's not how it has to be for you. You don't have to belong to them the way I do."

The Doctor leaned over and grasped Jamie's shoulders.

"I can get you away from this place," he assured him. "I could take you to your laird in France. Or I could take you to a point in Scotland's future when you won't be so persecuted. And if it's your memories that you're worried about…well, it will be a little tricky, but I'm sure I can find a way to ensure that you can keep them too."

"Or, I could jes go wit' ye and ye would nae have to worry aboot any of this," Jamie said.

"Jamie," the Doctor said, letting him go and turning his gaze back toward the floor. "You don't understand. If I take you with me, they'll be no guarantees. I can't promise that you'll always be safe or even tell you how long this would last. It could be years or never before you'd be allowed to return to Scotland. I can't allow you to waste your life jumping from one disaster to another just to keep me, a criminal, happy. I can't."

The Doctor let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a sob and bowed his head even more, his bangs drooping over his face. Jamie didn't know what had happened during the years already spent working for this CIA and doubted that the Doctor would ever tell him the whole story.

Nevertheless, the one thing the piper was certain of was that, whatever it was these Time Lords had the Doctor doing, it was killing him, slow but sure. Gone was the cheerful, carefree wanderer, self-assured in his genius and eager to sate his curiosity. In his place was a lonely, broken man, a prisoner who could see no further than the things that had trapped him. The Doctor has always been a bit of a pessimist, but until this moment, Jamie had never seen him give up hope completely. It ignited Jamie's rage against the Time Lords yet again, but it also made a piece of his heart crumble.

Another pair of tears ran down his face, but Jamie swiftly brushed them away. Right now, he had more important things to concern himself with. He moved closer to the Doctor and grabbed his shoulders the way he had so many times before, causing the other man to look up at him.

"Doctor, I understand what ye're telling me. I do," Jamie said. "Ye don' want me to share in yer punishment and ye're worried aboot what could happen to me if I go wit' ye. Ye're worried that I'll regret goin' wit' ye and feel like I've wasted my life. I get all that. But I'm tellin' ye, it does nae matter. I still want to go wit' ye."

The Doctor stared at him in silent disbelief. Thinking that that probably wouldn't last, Jamie figured he had better continue before the Doctor could find the words to voice another objection.

"Look, ye're wondering why I would want to travel alongside a criminal," he added. "But don' ye see, ye've already been doin' the exact same thing. What do ye think those Redcoats think of me and my clansman? Aye, in the eyes of England, I'm a criminal tae, a rebel who took up arms against the man they think is the rightful king."

"That's not the same," the Doctor said. "You and your countrymen were fighting for what you thought was right."

"And so were ye," Jamie countered. "Ye could have jes kept yer head doon and walked away from all those people who needed ye so those Time Lords could ne'er find ye, but ye dinna. Ye knew what could happen, but ye did it anyway. Besides that, ye're forgetting that I know ye. Whatever ye're doin' now, I know that ye're still finding some way to keep on fighting for what ye know is right."

Jamie finally managed to smile and was pleased when the Doctor did the same.

"And what I want is to go back to fighting alongside ye," he continued. "Ye need someone to look after ye and I made a promise to do jes that. I know it won' be like before, but if I can still travel wit' ye, I'll be happy enough."

"Jamie…."

"Now look, I made my choice before when I stepped into the TARDIS the first time," Jamie said. "Those Time Lords took that choice away from me. So now, I'm askin' ye to let me have it back."

There was a long moment of silence. At first, Jamie was worried that he still wasn't able to get through to him and that the Doctor would make the decision for him after all. Then the Doctor's smile grew, and he knew he had succeeded at last. Overjoyed at this revelation, Jamie grabbed the Doctor for another hug.

"Oh Jamie," the Doctor said as he reciprocated the embrace. "Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"Since when did ye want people around ye who listened to ye all the time?" Jamie laughed. "If ye had wanted that, ye'd ne'er let me step foot on the TARDIS."

The Doctor chuckled, a sincere, happy sound that Jamie relished. It was a small victory, but now Jamie was determined to keep on doing whatever he could to help the Doctor be himself again.

"Doctor, when are we goin'?" Jamie asked as he let him go.

"Soon, Jamie," the Doctor said. "After dark. I'd like to avoid any more confrontations with the English soldiers if at all possible."

"Ah, I'm wit' ye there," the piper nodded. "I've had enough of them and yer German accent to last a lifetime and then some."

"And what's wrong with my accent?" the Doctor said, bristling with mock annoyance.

"Ye ever take the time to listen to it? It's one of the daftest things I've ever heard."

"You certainly didn't seem to mind before when I was using it to stall those English soldiers and carry out my plans."

"Aye, that's 'cause I was young and dinna know any better," Jamie smirked.

"Instead of critiquing my vocal talents, you should be getting some more rest," the Doctor chided. "You're still recovering, you know and it will be a few miles' walk to the TARDIS."

"Och, I'll be fine after a wee lie down, don' ye worry," Jamie said. "Ye jes be sure ye know where we're goin' before we head back out onto those moors."

"Yes, well…."

"Doctor…ye do remember where ye left the TARDIS, don' ye?"

"Of course I do….for the most part."

"Oh no," Jamie said, rolling his eyes.

"Shush, Jamie," the Doctor said. "Let me think."

Jamie smirked again as he plopped back down onto the bed. He was pretty sure that there would be at least one misadventure before they got back to the TARDIS, but he didn't mind.

He was back where he belonged, back with the Doctor. And that was more than enough.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Last chapter. I plan on going back to work on my other open fics for now, but I have plans for more 6B era fics in the future. Stay tuned. :)

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who read/followed/favorited/reviewed this. It is always appreciated. :D

Chapter Five

Although it didn't happen all that often, occasionally, the Doctor wondered why he rarely took proper holidays.

Granted, there were times when the TARDIS landed somewhere that was unpopulated, or under-populated at the very least, and he was able to spend time leisurely exploring with his companions. There were even a couple times when he managed to land on the Eye of Orion, a place that never failed to impress him or the people he traveled with.

However, when it came to actually attempting to steer the TARDIS toward a destination that was specifically designed for fun and relaxation, the Doctor seldom saw the need. So when Sardon informed him that he could go on leave for a time and then Jamie suggested taking a real vacation, he found himself unable to come up any ideas. On a whim, he decided to try Lires, a planet with a reputation for having some of the best resort facilities on this side of the universe.

It was while he was standing off to the side with Jamie, listening to their obnoxiously perky 'activities guide' that the Doctor remembered why he avoided resort planets most of the time.

"All right, we are having so much fun, aren't we?" the guide, a woman named Cassilida, chirped.

"Doctor, why does yon lassie keep askin' us that?" Jamie whispered to him out of the corner of his mouth. "Does she think we might forget or somethin'?"

"More like she was trained by the owners of this resort to try to brainwash us into having fun, Jamie," the Doctor grumbled. "It's bad for business if people come here and see that the guests are miserable."

"Well, she's nae doin' a verra good job," Jamie huffed. "If she tells us to 'smile our joyful smiles' one more time, I might have to put her over my knee and larrup her."

"Come on, you two," Cassilida said, waving her hands at them. "Remember your joyful smiles."

Jamie scowled. The Doctor, fearing that he might go through with his threat, immediately grabbed the piper's belt. Jamie flashed him a dirty look, but quickly resigned himself to his fate and did his best to approximate a smile.

"Good, good," Cassilida said. "Now come this way. We've got an exciting activity planned for you."

Both the Doctor and Jamie rolled their eyes and followed the rest of the crowd toward one of doors leading outside. Overall, it hadn't been a terrible vacation up to this point. Lires was a lovely planet with a variety of landscapes to enjoy. Having been here once before the Doctor knew the natives to be a friendly, easy-going people who purposely led simple lives. Plus, the main resort was lavishly furnished and offered numerous opportunities to participate in a grand selection of activities or to do absolutely nothing at all.

Unfortunately, the Doctor's original plan to spend today reacquainting himself with the natives fell through when he and Jamie accidently won vouchers to take part in the one-day 'Sunny Adventures' outing. They had tried to give their vouchers away, but after attracting unwanted attention from the staff, they decided to play along and try to enjoy their prize.

The Doctor glanced over at Jamie and let out a low chuckle. It was clear that the Scot was reaching the end of his patience after the 'Getting-To-Know-You' tournament. He had a sneaking suspicion that Jamie would not find whatever Cassilida had planned next any more palpable and was already formulating an escape plan.

Still, as annoying as this outing was turning out to be, it wasn't enough to sour the Doctor's mood. Especially given how much of an improvement all this was from his life the previous week.

* * *

_As Jamie had predicted, leaving Scotland had not gone quite as easily as planned. Not only was there the expected wrong turns as the Doctor pieced together the path back to the TARDIS, there was also a tense moment when they ran into a pair of English soldiers patrolling near the edge of the moors._

_Fortunately, a switch to a Russian accent for the Doctor and a quick change into a bonnet and dress for Jamie proved to be enough of a distraction to enable them to slip past the soldiers with surprisingly few questions. After that was over, the Doctor was thankful to find that they were only yards from the TARDIS, partially because he was worried about additional soldiers, but mainly because Jamie had not stopped glowering at him from the moment he first saw his disguise. _

_The Doctor's return to Gallifrey also proved to be a tense situation as it was clear that Goth, and even Sardon to some extent, were surprised that Jamie had agreed to accompany him. Sardon briefed Jamie on what would be expected of him and then told the Doctor to escort him to the medical center to get his identification chip implanted. _

_Taking Jamie to the medical center for this task was bad enough in the Doctor's eyes, but the fact that Goth inexplicably followed them was even worse. The attending doctor was ready for them when they arrived and instructed Jamie to roll up his sleeve. As soon as the piper complied, the physician seized his arm and was about to inject the chip when Jamie flinched and yanked it away._

"_Failure to cooperate will be considered sufficient cause to send you back to Earth," Goth said in his most condescending tone. "I hope the Doctor has explained that to you."_

"_Of course he knows," the Doctor snapped. "But that medic had no right to grab him and attempt to forcibly inject him like that!"_

"_Perhaps," Goth sniffed. "But that does not change the need for this procedure to be completed."_

_The Doctor glared at Goth for another moment before turning to Jamie and patting his shoulder._

"_It's all right, Jamie," he assured him. "They're just going to insert a small device under your skin as a means of identifying you. I have one myself in my forearm."_

"_Ye mean they'll put one of those serpent tattoos on my arm tae?" Jamie asked._

"_That is only necessary for convicted criminals," Goth interjected. "It will not be required for you."_

"_Oh aye," Jamie scowled at him. "How verra kind of ye."_

"_May I proceed now?" the medic asked with more than a little impatience. _

_Jamie nodded and held out his arm. The physician tapped it a couple times to find a suitable site before pressing the device against the Scot's arm. Jamie hissed as the needle pricked his skin and rubbed his arm once it was over. _

_The Doctor watched all this with eyes full of regret. He hated how Jamie was being treated, but he hated the idea the CIA now had a measure of control over Jamie even more. The chip itself was innocuous and couldn't be used to harm the piper in any way, but the fact remained that it was a symbol signifying Jamie's status as one of their puppets. He knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he made a silent promise to himself to someday find the means to have that chip removed from Jamie's arm._

"_Sardon will want to discuss your future assignments with you later," Goth added. "You and this human can wait for him in your quarters."_

"_Right, back to our cell then," Jamie grumbled._

"_Hardly," Goth replied. "I realize that your species has not progressed beyond the use of such measures, but our civilization has long since moved past the need to exercise such barbarism on our prisoners."_

"_No, ye jes treat anyone who's nae one of ye like nothing," Jamie retorted. "Specks o' dirt to be brushed aside and every bit as filthy to ye. Ne'er minding that only the dirt can take in both life and death. But I suppose that's nae somethin' civilized people like ye have the time to think aboot." _

_Now it was Goth's turn to glower. The Doctor was aware that it wasn't a good idea to openly antagonize Goth, but he had to struggle to hide a smirk just the same._

"_Come along now, Jamie," the Doctor said, placing his arm on the piper's shoulder. "There is an impressive view of my home world just outside my quarters, and I'd like to show it to you."_

* * *

Back in the present, the Doctor frowned, but made sure to conceal it from Jamie. He didn't like to think about the way other Time Lords mumbled and subtly gawked at the piper wherever he went. Their reaction was akin to how the Doctor imagined high society patrons in a fancy restaurant on Earth would respond to one of their fellows insisting on dining with his dog. He was certain that their demeanor did not completely escape the Scot's attention. But if it affected him, Jamie chose to keep it to himself.

"All right, now if you'll just follow me, I'll show you the next stop in our adventure," Cassilida said, waving her hands at the crowd. "And I can promise you that it will be most exciting."

The Doctor nudged Jamie and they followed. Their meeting with Sardon had surprised both of them when he announced that they would be given leave until further notice. The Doctor suspected that this would prove to be the calm before the storm, but decided to put that idea aside for the time being. Instead, he would focus on reacquainting Jamie to life on the TARDIS and try to make his friend feel at home again.

However, as happy as the Doctor was to have Jamie back, the transition from being almost constantly alone to having the piper in his life again did not always run smoothly. There were times when he fell into habits he had formed out of necessity and acted as if there was still no one else around. He would spend hours contemplating the controls on the central column or fiddling with some system within the TARDIS. During these times, the only conversations that he would engage in were with himself. All it would take was a word or a touch from Jamie to startle him severely which would prompt him to react with irritation and a surly demand to keep out of his way. He often forgot to join the piper for meals and usually neglected to ask Jamie where he would like to go or what he would like to do.

After a few days of this, Jamie finally put forth the suggestion for a holiday. The Doctor was surprised by this. The Scot had never asked for a vacation before. Nevertheless, the Doctor, driven by guilt over how he was treating his companion, agreed that it was a good idea and chose Lires for their destination. One of the owners had been indebted to him for years and had given him a permanent pass to the resort as a way to repay that debt. The Doctor had even managed to have the TARDIS transported to his and Jamie's room so they wouldn't have to worry about it while they were here.

Still, despite being a pleasant place to visit, the Doctor found it difficult to relax. He kept thinking about what Sardon might have planned for them next and was still somewhat distant from Jamie.

The turning point finally came two days into their vacation.

* * *

_It was late at night after a long day spent exploring the layout of the resort that it happened. Jamie had fallen asleep almost instantly after they went back to their room while the Doctor decided to catch up on some reading he had been putting off. It hadn't taken him long, however, to fall asleep as well. Sleep was something he had avoided as much as possible over these last few decades. His dreams had become reminders of everything he no longer was and everyone who was no longer with him. Thus, he was far more exhausted than he had realized and now that he had the chance to truly relax, sleep came easy to him._

_A short time later, he woke up to find Jamie missing. At first, he thought that maybe the piper had gotten up to use the restroom or get a drink of water, but then he noticed that the only sound in the room was his own breathing._

_Panicked, the Doctor jumped up from his chair and searched every section of their rooms. Then he dashed into the TARDIS to see if Jamie had gone in there for some reason. He had the TARDIS scan for life-forms and was horrified when only he registered. _

_The Doctor wrung his hands together as he paced around the room. He could sense that he had been asleep for about two hours and wondered what could have happened in that amount of time. One terrible idea immediately popped into his mind._

'_They did this,' he thought. 'The CIA. I knew there was something wrong when Sardon told me to take time off. They changed their minds and sent Jamie away to Rassilon knows where.'_

_The Doctor sank back down onto his chair and covered his face with his hands. It seemed unnecessarily cruel for them to allow him to reunite with Jamie only to snatch him away again a short while later without warning, but the Doctor was well aware that they were capable of such cruelty. He imagined that Goth played a hand in this. It was the just the type of thing he would do. He also chastised himself for letting down his guard and allowing himself to believe in something that was clearly too good to be true._

"_Doctor? Are ye all right?"_

_The Doctor started violently and looked up to see Jamie standing in the doorway to the bedroom, his hair mussed and his eyes heavy with sleep. _

"_Jamie," he said. "What…where have you been?"_

"_Sorry, I was still feelin' a wee bit hungry and went out to find a snack," Jamie said with a yawn. "Would ye believe there was actually a line jes to get a sandwich? At this time o' night tae? I sat down on one of those couches in the lobby to wait and I guess I fell asleep again."_

_The Doctor sat nothing as he got up from his chair and rushed over to embrace him. Startled, Jamie gasped before returning the embrace. _

"_Hey Doctor, what's wrong?" Jamie asked. "Why did ye…?"_

"_Jamie, please forgive me," the Doctor interrupted. "I know that I haven't been the most welcoming person and that it hasn't been easy to travel with me again…."_

"_Och, it's all right," Jamie insisted, patting his back. "Ye're still gettin' used to me again. All that time alone, I'm sure it gets to ye after a while."_

_The Doctor shook his head. He didn't know if he should tell the piper the truth of what had upset him, but in the end, it didn't matter anyway._

"_Ye…ye thought I was gone again, dinna ye?"Jamie murmured. "Ye thought the Time Lords took me away. That's why ye were surprised, isn't it? Ye were surprised I came back."_

_The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly realized that part of the reason why he had tried to remain somewhat distant from Jamie was because he was paranoid that it would abruptly end before too long. Of course, it wasn't fair to the piper for him to act this way, but the Doctor wasn't sure if he could handle the aftermath his hearts would have to endure if he allowed himself to fully bond with him again only to have it end shortly thereafter._

_His brooding reverie was suddenly interrupted by Jamie squeezing him harder._

"_Doctor, I swear I'll do whatever I can to stay," Jamie said. "But I know I cannae promise I always will. That's not jes 'cause of those Time Lords. My life is no more than a blink of an eye to ye."_

"_Jamie, stop it," the Doctor retorted, his breaths becoming uneven as his frayed nerves grew even more taunt. "Stop talking that way."_

"_I'm sorry," Jamie said quietly. "I jes…I jes don' want ye to surrender to the fear anymore. Don' let the Time Lords take away who ye are. Let yerself live."_

"_Who I am," the Doctor whispered. "I'm not sure if I know anymore, Jamie."_

"_Ye know," Jamie insisted. "Ye jes need to remember. It'll come to ye."_

* * *

The Doctor let out a sigh as he walked alongside Jamie. The rest of that night had been spent with him going back to his reading and Jamie dozing next to him on the sofa. Almost every night after that, Jamie made sure to maintain contact with him while he slept be it a hand on the Doctor's arm or a drooping head leaning against him. Neither said it aloud, but he knew that it was Jamie's way of reassuring him that it was safe to close his eyes, to sleep and be secure in the knowledge that his friend would still be there when he woke up. The fact that Jamie had understood this without the need for any explanations was a poignant reminder of why he had missed him so much.

After four nights of this, the Doctor to finally felt more refreshed and alert than he had in decades. He just wished that Jamie would stop fussing over him and acting like he needed to walk on eggshells. He was sure that they were both steadily moving toward the point where they could break down that last barrier of caution and reluctance, but could not see how to best overcome it.

"All right, here we are then," Cassilida announced. "These hover vehicles will take us to our next destination: a specially prepared concert featuring an original composition that re-imagines many of the galaxy's favorite popular songs. Presented by our very own Golden Lires Resort Towers Band!"

The Doctor shuddered and wasn't shocked when Jamie did the same. Both of them had an innate appreciation of music and it wasn't difficult to envision the monstrosity that awaited them.

"Now, for those of us who haven't used hover vehicles like these before, let's go through a short training session together," Cassilida said. "The first thing to keep in mind as you ride is the need to maintain appropriate horsie positions for safety purposes."

"Horsie positions?" Jamie snorted. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, Jamie," the Doctor muttered. "But my advice to you is to just say neigh."

"Och, I see some things ne'er change wit' ye," Jamie smirked at him. "Seriously, Doctor, can we nae get away from here?"

The Doctor glanced over to see one hover vehicle parked slightly away from the others. He motioned to Jamie to follow him and they slowly crept over toward it. They looked back one last time to see Cassilida still engrossed in her riding lesson along with rest of the crowd. Satisfied with their chances, the Doctor hopped onto the vehicle and started it up. Jamie climbed on behind him and held onto his waist as the Doctor sped off.

"Wait!" Cassilida shouted. "We haven't finished our lesson. No! No, that's not the right way! Come back!"

But the Doctor and Jamie ignored her, and soon they were outside the resort and were speeding along the plains.

"Doctor, ye sure ye know how to steer this thing?" Jamie yelled.

"Of course I'm sure, what do you take me for?" the Doctor groused. "Just hold on while I figure out where the brake is."

"The what?!" Jamie spluttered. "Doctor, don' ye think we should…?"

Jamie never got a chance to finish that sentence due to the Doctor trying out one of the levers and unexpectedly discovering what he was looking for. The vehicle came to a sudden stop, but its passengers did not. Both of them sailed into a thick pile of brush. After each of them confirmed that they had survived, they pulled themselves out of the bushes and back onto their feet.

"Well," the Doctor chuckled as he rubbed his head. "At least it was a soft landing."

"Aye, I suppose that's better than usual," Jamie scowled while checking himself for injuries. "Where are we anyway?"

"Oh, I'd say about five miles from where we were and about ten miles to the nearest village," the Doctor mused. "You know, I've been meaning to visit them for quite some time. I wonder if Nocluia is still the Head Elder. Oh I do hope so. You'll like him Jamie. Always ready with a smile and never one to…."

The Doctor's words trailed off when he looked behind him and saw what looked like a large pyramid a few yards away.

"Hello?" the Doctor said. "Now, I know that that wasn't there when I was here last. And yet, it looks as if it's been sitting there for centuries."

The Doctor walked over to it with Jamie close behind. Symbols were etched into the stone. The Doctor studied them while tracing his finger along their edges. He peered around the edge and beamed at what he found.

"There's an opening over there," he said, clapping his hands together.

"Oh no, ye're not thinking of goin' in there are ye?" Jamie said, holding his hand out.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked. "There doesn't seem to be anyone around and it appears to be safe enough."

"Aye, it always looks that way to ye," Jamie said. "Come on, Doctor, think aboot it. Surely someone put that there for a reason, right? And if ye're right aboot it bein' put there recently despite it lookin' ancient, that means that somethin' is up, right?"

"Yes," the Doctor said, his smile growing. "Makes you wonder what it is, doesn't it?"

Jamie huffed and rolled his eyes. It was possible that this pyramid would turn out to be completely harmless, but the Doctor was pretty sure that Jamie was probably right to be suspicions. As it was, there was no reason why they couldn't just turn around and head off for the village like the Doctor had originally planned.

But there was something there, some sensation pulling at him that the Doctor nearly hadn't recognized. However, it didn't take long for him to realize what was making him hesitate: he was curious. It wasn't about what he needed to do or what someone else was telling him to do for a change. It was only about the desire to know, the urge to explore. It was about that child's question that held the most ancient of wisdom: _why?_

The Doctor looked over at Jamie and could see a spark reflected in the young Scot's eyes. In that moment, they both knew that this was also about regaining the choice to live and not just exist, to find their own meaning no matter what their lives or their futures held for them.

"Let's go in and find out, shall we?" the Doctor grinned. Jamie opened his mouth to protest, but threw up his hands instead.

"Och, what's the use?" Jamie sighed, a smile sneaking its way onto his face in spite of himself.

Both of them laughed and marched toward the entrance. Neither of them had any clue as to what they might find inside.

They only thing they knew for sure was that, whatever it was, it could never compare to the journey they took together to learn the answer.


End file.
